Great White Hope
by smileyanne
Summary: "I don't think my father has ever loved anything in this world as much as he loves you."
1. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore

_a/n: first ever Gilmore Girls fic. Though I don't really know if this can count as a full fic considering right now I'm only planning on making it in a series of one-shots revolving around Richard and Rory's relationship. I'm going to go ahead and mark it as complete right from the beginning so I can end it at any point I want._

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gilmore Girls._

* * *

The typical sounds of a hospital swarmed around him. The squeaky noises of metal carts being wheeled down over waxed hallways, the general rumbling of too many hushed voices, and the sound no one ever wanted to hear in a hospital-alarms. Though considering it seemed to be coming in the opposite direction then from the room that would've held his attention, he didn't concern himself with the noise.

No, throughout it all, Richard Gilmore stood transfixed to the same spot. His eyes locked onto one of the many tiny, cradled figures behind the glass in the room in front of him.

To a typical passerby, it was most likely an unusual sight. The image of a man of his age standing outside the nursery. Too old to be a new father staring dotingly at their newborn, and far too richly dressed to be the typical grandfather in a hospital such as this one.

_'Grandfather,' _the word was as foreign in his mind as he was sure it would be on his tongue. Of course (though he wasn't entirely sure), he was fairly positive that he had at least some say in what he would be called. At least...that's what the older men at the club had been boasting about in the months before they were officially to be dubbed a "Grandparent".

In his defense, Richard had always been fairly sure he'd have at least another four years before he had to think about those types of things. And the past nine months had been spent with him teetering on the brink of insanity.

Now, time was up. There was no more speculation. No more useless planning. No more talk of future and 'when the baby gets here', none of that. The wait was over, and here Richard was; left staring at the result.

In hindsight, there was a good possibility he might not get any say in the matter at all. Once Lorelai took a long enough break from fighting with her mother to remember the _child _she'd just had, he was sure that exact moment of clarity would be the second any minimal say he might have would be taken away. Which, he guessed, was why he was here now...

For the past two or so hours he and his wife had been sitting in uncomfortable chairs in a bland waiting room. Waiting (and in Emily's case-fuming) while their sixteen year old daughter had given birth. And no sooner had Lorelai been wheeled out of the delivery room and Emily and her were at it again. Richard had listened to them bickering all the way down the hallway to the room where Lorelai would spend the night.

While Emily had jumped right into berating their daughter on the finer points of the proper etiquette for going into labor. Richard on the other hand had been left standing like an idiot. At a loss as to what to do, he'd turned to one of the nurses that had accompanied his daughter out of the delivery room and made a few inquiries.

He'd been told that Lorelai had had a fairly easy, uncomplicated birth, and it had been relatively quick. And...that there was a newborn healthy little girl currently being wheeled to the nursery. Before he knew it, or even realized he was walking, he found himself here-in front of the nursery.

Staring at his granddaughter.

Lorelai had of course found out the sex of her baby beforehand. So there was no reason for surprise there. Hell, there was a whole room on the second floor of his house decked out to be this little girl's nursery...That he'd never bothered himself with looking at before.

It was wrong, so many things about this were wrong. Emily should've been beside him right now instead of arguing with their sixteen year old. Lorelai should've had a husband to drive her to the hospital, to hold her hand throughout the whole ordeal.

The child's _father _should've been here. Regardless if he wasn't in the delivery room with Loreali, he should've been here. In the waiting room with him and Emily at the very least. Christopher should've been here, he should've already have held his daughter by now.

Richard didn't give a damn if he found out the boy had a Calculus exam in the morning that his Princeton acceptance was riding on. If he found out that Straub and Francine had prohibited the boy from coming to the hospital. Or worse, Christopher had decided not to come of his own freewill...

That threat was better left unfinished.

"Excuse me, sir?" A polite voice interrupted his thoughts. Startled, Richard resisted the instinctive urge to jump, whirling around he came to face a petite woman hanging her head out the door of the nursery. She was small and blonde and wore a polite smile on her face.

"Uh," he cleared his throat roughly, a little flustered to have been caught staring. Even more embarrassed that he couldn't think of something to say. Emily would've been appalled.

Nevertheless, the woman's smile seemed to grow even _bigger _if that was even possible. "Are one of them yours?" She asked, nodding her head back towards the shifting sea of infants.

Richard nodded silently, then when he realized what it could be mistaken for. He hurried to correct her- "Grandfather. One of them-I'm a grandfather. My granddaughter is in there."

"Well okay then!" The woman practically chirped, and before Richard could manage to compose himself enough to even think about replying. She was gone, leaving the door wide open behind her; tilting to the side Richard could see her bustling around in the nursery. "Last name?" She called.

"...Gilmore." He replied, his voice wavering in confusion. What was she doing? For almost a split-second she disappeared from his line of sight, and then he heard her high pitched sound of triumph.

When she reappeared in his line of sight...she had a pink swaddled bundle in her arms. Beaming brightly she asked the words he hadn't been expecting-

"Would you like to hold her?"

Would he like to hold her? While one portion of his significantly impressive mind paused at the sheer absurdity of the situation. The other portion, a very tiny portion, was appropriately stunned mixed with outrage. She asked the question so casually, as if he were test driving some car. Nevermind for a moment, the fact for a moment that he actually was a grandfather. Could any old person stand out here and claim a relation to an infant, then just have them handed to them?

Maybe it was something in his expression, but the young woman apparently mistook his silence as acceptance. His brain still shutdown, it was as if everything was moving through jello. He saw her so cavalierly hand him the young infant, and even more shocking...he felt himself holding out his arms to accept her.

The moment he felt the warm weight settle in the cradle of his arms, it was as if someone had hit the play button.

And in a film worthy moment, around him, the world continued.

She felt so utterly small, held in his arms. Though he'd only held Lorelai a few times while she had been this young. He was sure his daughter had never been this tiny, this..._fragile_. In a sheer moment of absolute worry, the ridiculous notion that his large hands would inevitably crush her flitted through his mind. Despite his delusions that that idea was silly, he found himself being more careful than he ever remembered being with anything before in his life.

When he shifted the soft pink blanket she was wrapped in shifted, making her little face peep out at him. Her features were delicate, a puckered little mouth, a tiny button nose, and long dark eyelashes that brushed against her cheekbones. And on top of her head he could just make out a sprinkling of fine chocolate brown hair...

She was beautiful, his granddaughter. Beautiful, and tiny, and _here_. And he didn't even know her name-

"Excuse me?" He rasped, suddenly desperate. His throat dry, he tried to clear it as gruffly as he could while the blonde nurse turned back to face him.

"Yes?"

"Her name. Does she have a name yet?" Racking back through his memories of the past nine months, he didn't remember Lorelai seriously mentioning any names. Though if he knew anything about his daughter at all, than he knew that the first thing she had done was bestow a name upon this little girl. Dear lord he hoped he wasn't about to find out his granddaughter's name was Princess Banana-Rama or some other nonsense like that.

Apparently that was enough to alarm the nurse, if the wary way she was suddenly eyeing him and the baby was anything to go by. Though he was glad to see her at least blinking twice about her hasty decision to hand him the baby. It didn't bother her enough to try and take back his granddaughter from him. Keeping a suspicious eye on the two of them; she turned and quickly dug through some paperwork on the counter beside her.

"Yes," she said, flipping through a paper thin file. "Her name is Lorelai Leigh Gilmore."

"Thank you." He managed to choke out, his eyes prickling hotly.

_'Lorelai Leigh Gilmore,' _Lorelai had knowledgeably named her child after herself-Lorelai. He was sure, in the midst of deciding that, she had forgotten one key fact-

He and Emily had named Lorelai after his mother.

And Leigh, it was a family name of the Gilmore's. Yet he was positive that she'd thought up the name after some pop culture reference. Unknowingly (or maybe she had known?-he highly doubted it) Lorelai had named his granddaughter after the matriarch of the Gilmore family.

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore-" he couldn't help repeating, placing the name to the face. Maybe it was in response to his slightly awestruck tone, but the newest Lorelai shifted in his arms. Her eyes fluttering open-

And he was struck newly dumb by the striking blue eyes that greeted him. Logically he was aware that all newborns were born with blue eyes, and that there was a good chance that they would gradually change over time. But staring at those piercing, innocent, baby blues; he wouldn't change a thing about her.

"I'm your Grandpa."

* * *

_a/n: So I hope Richard wasn't too out of character here. And like I said, first ever Gilmore Girl fic. Depending if this gets any responses or not, I might continue. But I'm going to go ahead and mark this as complete anyway so I can end it anytime I want._


	2. Second Words Are Important Too

_a/n: I guess I'll just continue as long as I have inspiration to? _

_DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Gilmore Girls._

* * *

Richard Gilmore did not arrive home from the office until _very_ late at night. Pulling his car into the circular driveway in front of his house; he checked the dashboard (fruitlessly hoping), looking at the time for the first time in hours. It was long past seven (though he had known it would), so there was the certainty that he'd already missed dinner.

The horrible thing was; as he grabbed his briefcase and bustled out of his car, up the walkway to the door of his grand house...He could not decide if he was sad about that or not.

Considering the late hour, and the fact that it was his house, he didn't bother with ringing the doorbell. Everyone should have already been in bed by this time, and he didn't want to wake them. So he took the extra time to fumble with his key in the lock.

Pushing the heavy wooden door open; Richard was met by a surprise, and not the pleasant kind.

One thing he _had_ been disappointed about, all the way from the office and on the ride home, was that _everyone _would most likely be in bed by the time he got home. Though apparently, if the voices he was hearing echo throughout the house; he'd been wrong in that assumption.

Resigned, Richard took the liberty of hanging up his own coat in favor of calling in the newest maid out of wherever she was hiding. And she would be hiding, because (as was the norm in their house now) he could hear his wife and his daughter's voices shrieking at each other. He heaved a sigh as he deposited his briefcase by the coat rack. Later he would come back and move it to his office, but for now, he only wanted to do two things...The first one being to get some type of food.

Instead of entering the kitchen through the more traditional route-from the living room, and dining room-he turned right off the foyer. Completely and utterly doing his best to avoid the living room, and the bickering females in his family; he trudged straight into the kitchen. Oh, he knew Emily would be horrified if she knew what he was about to do, but he didn't feel like hunting down the maid to make him something. So a large ham sandwich on rye would have to suffice as his dinner for the night.

Pulling out the container of ham from the fridge and the loaf of bread from the cabinet; he did something he hadn't since college. He didn't use a plate. With the package of ham and bread still open he simply leaned over the sink and took a large bite. While he ate he did his best to tune out the arguing; he was fairly good at that by now. Really the only thing that affected him out of it all was the sheer noise level the girls were getting too. Though they might not have been asleep, there was more than a twinge of irritation stirring in his chest at the fact that they so easily forgot that there was someone else in the house who should be tucked soundly away by now.

Truly, though he didn't like the current situation in the household; he really wasn't surprised. It had never been uncommon for him to come home and hear Lorelai and Emily arguing, but recently things had gotten worse. Ten times worse in fact.

The past year and a half or so had been rough, what with their new addition to the household. Lorelai was having to learn how to be a mother, Emily was having to come to terms with the fact that she was a grandmother, and Richard was constantly battling the urge to murder each and everyone of the Haydens. Together, that equaled even more volatile tensions between Emily and Lorelai, and him hiding in his study more times than not.

Though as he cleaned up his mess in the kitchen he had to remind himself that despite the tension, there was one very plus side to this new situation. And that plus side was the reason why he'd tried so very hard to hurry home today.

One baby Lorelai Leigh Gilmore.

Tying the twist tie back in place for the bread package, Richard trudged wearily out of the kitchen. It sounded as if Emily and Lorelai's argument had at least decreased in volume, though not intensity; he took what he could get. Leaving his briefcase where he had deposited it earlier, he decided to call it a night. Braving the predator's eyesight; he made his way into the living room, his destination-the staircase, and then-his bed.

_"If you had just-"_

_"Well you need to stop shoving your nose-"_

His wife and daughter's voices pierced his ears; as he took the steps two at a time. They were arguing, he was fleeing, and the one person he really truly wanted to see tonight, was most likely already counting sheep. Or..._should be_.

On the landing to the second floor; Richard paused. Up here he couldn't quite make out the words being spat downstairs, but he could still clearly hear the rumble of voices. And if he could, he was sure there was a good chance a thirteen month old could too.

While the third floor of their house was dedicated solely to his and Emily's room. The second floor had a multitude of rooms; two large guest bedrooms, a bathroom at the end of the corridor, Lorelai's room and her ensuite, and...the nursery. A nursery that over year ago, had just been another guest room. But now had beautiful white details, soft corners, and an ornate crib that was the home of the newest Gilmore.

Richard paused; hand kneading the banister and rocking uncharacteristically back and forth on his heels, he deliberated on what to do. Recently his main reason for getting home from the office at a decent hour was the sweet little girl Lorelai had quickly nicknamed 'Rory'. Most nights he was able to get home just in time for dinner and to see her for a good half-hour before Lorelai put her to bed. And he found that today, a rare exception when he hadn't not only been able to get home in time for dinner-but many hours after, he felt..._bad._

The sad part was that that half-hour in the evenings with Rory was easily the highlight of his day.

Mind made up, he ignored his own logic that screamed there was no sense in it, and started forward. He made a conscious effort to lighten his steps as he approached; holding his breath, he figured there was no harm in just _peeking _in on her before he went to bed.

Almost timidly he pushed open the door just the tiniest crack; at first his heart stopped...the room was completely and utterly dark. With the heavy curtains Emily had had a decorator hang covering the large bay window, no moonlight was able to penetrate. But that wasn't what made Richard sick, what made him feel like that was the fact that he was well aware that his granddaughter was afraid of the dark.

Gently he eased opened the door a little more; allowing more of the hall lighting into the room. He was trying his best, but all he could distinguish besides the mess downstairs was the sound of gentle breathing. Nothing distinctive enough to give him a hint as to if Rory had managed to fall asleep like this or not.

He was glad he had pushed that little bit further. Because that scant amount of extra lighting illuminated the wide awake eyes of a little girl clutching at the bars of her crib.

"Oh, Rory," he murmured, careful not to startle the poor girl. Pushing the door completely open, he walked fully into the room. And that pesky little irritating feeling he'd had all day simmered down slightly at the way the girl's eyes lite up at the sight of him. She wobbly tried to pull herself up by the bars; Rory almost had standing down, he had to give her that. But she had a little ways to go before she got the walking part down.

Guiltily, Richard was relieved that she wasn't there yet. According to Lorelai, Rory had already said the word 'Mama'-many times. All of which (including the first time) he had missed. Though he hadn't expected it; he had found himself feeling very slighted at the fact that he'd missed what was essentially her first word. To be fair, he hadn't been there for Lorelai's either.

Maybe that was why he found himself wanting to be there at least for her first steps.

Richard put a soft smile on his face; crouching down in front of the beautifully made crib, he stuck a finger through the bars. Immediately Rory's small hand latched onto his finger. Below, he swore he could hear the voices rising.

"Have they been at it long?"

Apparently he wasn't the rational man he thought himself to be because he would hold to the statement that his granddaughter just nodded in assent to him right then. His smile became a little more sincere, though it was still tinged with sadness, "Yeah. That's what I thought so."

Lorelai and Emily had been at it all day; making Rory the unwilling listener. It must have been one of their more vicious ones too if Lorelai had forgotten how to tuck her daughter in properly. Whether he liked it or not, Lorelai had shown herself to be a very good mother. Though-at the end of the day-she was still a teenager, who had a habit of going for her mother's throat whenever the opportunity presented itself.

His other hand came up and gently stroked her dark, downy hair. She didn't have much, but she did have enough that little ringlets were starting to form a halo around her. Even after this long...she was still so tiny. He could still remember the one thing Emily and Lorelai had seemed to agree upon in the in the last thirteen months-

Around Rory's sixth month Richard had come home extremely tired, a night much like this evening, and Rory had apparently had a 'cold'. From that night the only thing he remembered was violently yelling down a phone at some moronic pediatrician, and then the lecture and accompanying eye roll he'd received from both his wife and his daughter. According to them, he had... 'overreacted'.

"G'm'pa," Rory whined in front of him; impatient for his attention to be back on her. Hastily correcting his mistake he refocused back on the girl in front of him...

Wait.

Rory had _demanded_ his attention.

"What did you just say?" His voice was hoarse, throat tight. Just like it had been the day he had first held her in his arms. He wiggled his finger; Rory's tiny hand still clutching it tightly. Richard had to resist the urge to get down on his knees and beg her to say what he'd thought he heard again.

She smiled sweetly-blithely-up at him; the darkness of the room forgotten.

"She said Grandpa," a familiar voice spoke from behind him.

Richard jumped, shocked; he had enough sense to be careful when peeling Rory off of him. Turning around he could clearly see the outline of his daughter leaning against the door frame.

Huh, that was interesting. So caught up in his granddaughter; he hadn't realized that it had gone silent in the war zone. Richard cleared his throat; awkwardly shifting, slightly embarrassed to be caught talking to a baby (even if he was firmly convinced that she understood every single word spoken).

"Where's your mother?"

"Bed," Lorelai answered curtly; walking into the room and flipping the light switch. Richard squinted at the sudden onslaught of brightness in the room, behind him, he heard Rory whine again. "Or, at least, I saw her go up that way. 'Got no clue if she's actually going to sleep or not. Don't care either."

"Lorelai," he warned; not bothering to go into the same old lecture. She rolled her eyes at his tone, something so childish that he wanted to laugh, because she was standing in her _daughter's nursery_. Lorelai shrugged her shoulders in the over sized sweater she was wearing, bunching up the sleeves; she huffed, tired. He narrowed his eyes at her; trying to muster a glare. "How long were you standing there?"

She smirked slightly, a strange look on her otherwise blank face. "Long enough," she said simply. "Came up to go to bed, and I saw the door open-"

Steadily her smirk and look of amusement had been falling, as she saw the way he was looking at her. He had no right to parent her about her parenting, he knew that. But he couldn't help the accusing way his words came out, "You forgot to turn her nightlight on."

"Yeah, Dad, I realized that." She chewed her lip, a tick she still hadn't outgrown. "Came in here to fix it."

For what felt like a long moment; they stared each other down. He saw the dark circles rimming her eyes, and the way she looked practically folded in on herself. Just from looking at her; he could tell it had taken a lot out of her, fighting with her mother. Especially if she had forgotten such a key component in Rory's bedtime ritual. Eventually...he decided to venture on a solution that should make them both happy. "Lorelai," he said heavily; hoping she wouldn't jump him for this. "Go to sleep; you're exhausted. I'll put her to bed."

Lorelai kept steady eye contact with him, something he respected (especially considering he had a good foot of height on her). But she kept quiet; silently assessing him, looking for the hidden meaning in his words. Determining if she was going to be judged for this one concession in motherhood. When she finally determined that there was no judgment or condemnation behind his offer; she sighed. Relaxing her half-hearted fighting stance slightly; she came forward, bypassing him she leaned over her daughter's crib.

Richard took a step back; allowing Lorelai room with her daughter. He watched as she bent over the railings; brushing one hand over Rory's silky smooth curls in a gesture reminiscent of his own, she kissed her gently on the top of the head. "Love you," he heard Lorelai say sweetly, in a tone completely different than the one she'd had before. "Nighty, night."

With that she stood erect, nor sign of her previous slump in her posture as she looked at her farther. With a curt nod she turned to leave; Richard and Rory's eyes both trailing after her, but before she went-she paused in the doorway. Looking over her shoulder at Richard; she gave him a small-but genuine smile, "Thanks Dad...And you did hear her right the first time. She said 'grandpa'." Lorelai shrugged (with what Richard noted as a little bit of resignation in her posture that made his blood run cold). "You were her...second word. Well, anyway, night Dad."

Giving a lackluster sort of wave; she left in the direction of her room. A second later, Richard could hear the sound of her bedroom door opening and closing quietly. There would be a baby monitor on her dresser that would alert her in the middle of the night if Rory woke up needing her, but-for now-she would be able to get some much needed rest.

And while this compromise benefited her...it benefited him as well.

With his head still ridiculously lightheaded from the mumbled sounds of a thirteen month old; he turned his attention back to his granddaughter. He was pleased to note, that unlike the reaction most babies would've had to the tense situation-crying; Rory was silent. From his own limited experience he believed that was just another area in which his granddaughter differed from the majority; Rory was a surprisingly quiet child. Never really fussy, never really mean, and didn't didn't to do the outrageous squealing of most infants.

She just sat, tiny hands back to clutching the bars, looking at the doorway her mother had just left out of. Then she turned her head back to him, large brilliant blue eyes blinking up at him.

He really did love the color of her eyes. He'd been ridiculously happy that they so far showed no signs of changing colors.

"Are you ready for bed?" He asked her seriously, almost expecting a verbal answer from her. Rory just stared at him; scrunching up her little button nose just the slightest. Richard was smug at that..and Emily thought she couldn't understand them. Their granddaughter was already, and would become even more, smart as time wore on.

"Alright then," leaning his large frame over the small crib was no easy task, and neither was it to lift his granddaughter. Of course she was tiny, and already lifting her arms up towards him in the universal sign of 'pick me up'; she weighed no more than a feather in his arms. It was just that he was _still _absurdly terrified that he would accidentally hurt her.

Standing back up; he got her situated on his hip. One large arm bracing her back being more than enough to support her as her little fingers clutched in the fabric of his dress shirt. Walking out of the frilly nursery, he looked down at the baby in his arms, something akin to happiness running through his veins at the possibility of the word she'd said only moments ago.

Richard wasn't just liberating Rory from her doily covered prison for no good reason. If she wasn't asleep yet, and Emily and Lorelai fad finally called it quits for the night, than he saw no good reason why he should rush off to bed either. Not when it gave him a chance to gain back some of that time he had missed because of the bumbling Floyd who just couldn't seem to shut his mouth.

This time he traversed the stair much more carefully. The heavy curtains that adorned the windows that made up a large part of the front of his house; were shut tightly. He felt Rory tense a little in his arms, and he picked up his pace. Passing the place where he'd sat it earlier; he swooped up his briefcase with his free hand and swiftly made his way to their target-his study.

Shouldering open the door was no easy task, but he managed. Nudging it shut with his foot, his first priority was to carelessly sling his briefcase down on his desk and flip on the antique fixture that served as his desk lamp. Instantly, light flooded the room, and he felt the little body in his arms relax at that. When he felt Rory calming down. the tenseness that had been creeping up on him all day, dissipated too.

Carelessly (but gently) he flung them both down into the large leather chair that he specifically favored. He heard a sweet giggle when he slung her around; pretending for the sake of it to throw her. Smiling broadly as he looked at his grinning grandchild; he settled her snugly on his chest as he reclined back. Finally relaxing for the first time that day; he stared down at the blue eyes only a shade different than his own.

"Shall we continue?" He whispered theatrically to her, scrunching his nose up in a feeble impression of a funny face. Nevertheless, it sufficed for Rory, as he managed to get another giggle out of her. "I'll take that as a yes."

See, while Richard didn't necessarily take part in Rory's bedtime 'routine'. He and her did have a sort of..._tradition_ of their own. And that tradition was located in the one drawer of the small inn table that was positioned right beside their chair. Reaching over with one hand, the other still laying lightly on her back, Richard fumbled for a moment. Getting the drawer open; he pulled out it's only object...

"Ok then," he re-situated them, Rory's back propped up against his chest while his arms held the book in front of her. It wasn't a children's book, at least not one you would expect to be read to someone who was still practically an infant. The leather binding fading, and the pages yellowing-it certainly didn't look the part either. Yet, that didn't faze either him or Rory in the slightest.

"Mmmm," he hummed lightly; feeling Rory snuggle closer into him, her eyes on the flicking pages as he flipped to the spot where they'd last left off. They'd been at this for a few months now, just whenever they could sneak the time. Richard had never meant to start something like this, and most certainly hadn't told Lorelai or Emily of it, not that he was ashamed of it-but that he knew it would just be the fuel for _another_ argument. Even if he was just reading the child a bedtime story!

Besides, selfishly, he liked that it was just him and Rory. He liked that he got to regale her with the long ago written tale of a secret world hidden inside a wardrobe. Of children both brave and strong, selfish and prideful. It felt right to read her the stories he himself had read as a child.

"Ah, here we are," he said; coming to a stop at the last page he'd read to her. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down at Rory; her blue eyes blinking up at him, as if demanding him to get on with the tale.

So he did.

Time ceased to exist. Not in the cinematic way, where everything just paused around the one fixed point in time. But in the way that he simply forgot _everything_. Everything but lions and witches, the thumbing of the wearing pages, and the attentively listening little girl in his arms. This was time simply for him and is granddaughter. Away from the expectations, from the arguing and the bickering, and the demand that came with being a high society family.

He'd forgotten it all. His voice narrating in a rumbling whisper, he continued until the words were blurring on the page and his head was dizzy with the tug of sleep. With a deep yawn; he folded down the corner of the page they'd left off on. Next time he would forget where they'd stopped, and they would reread portions again. But Richard didn't mind, and Rory never complained. With fumbling fingers; he put the book away, back in it's hiding place, where it would stay until they were ready for it again.

Looking down, Richard checked on Rory. She'd been silent while he read, but that wasn't anything unusual. Still, it made him chuckle quietly when he saw her slumped down against him, her eyelids drooping drowsily. Though she was fighting, fighting _valiantly_ against the pull of sleep; Richard knew she wouldn't even last the journey back to the nursery.

And if he were being truthful with himself; he didn't really feel like moving either. In the morning his back and knees would protest, and Emily would have a fit about propriety-but those were things that could be dealt with later.

Propping his feet up on the settee; he pulled Rory closer to him. Both were slowly loosing the battle against sleep; her curled up against his chest, and his arms loosely cradling. With one large hand; he stroked her hair back soothingly.

Tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and before she lost the final battle he heard her say one mumbled word-

_"G'm'pa." _

Come morning the cycle would start all over again. Richard would go to work where he excelled; battling idiots and wishing he were at home. While Lorelai and Emily with rejuvenated energy, went at each other again. Each wearing the other down to that inevitable end. And Rory...sweet, innocent, Rory was shuffled back-in-forth between it all.

But that one, garbled, barely there word made all of that worth it. Made him suddenly,_ fiercely_, willing to endure the endless bitter cycle over and over again just to hear it one more time.

That night, Richard Gilmore fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

_A/N: Ok so first of all, I don't have children. So I might have gotten the milestones wrong (walking, talking, standing, etc...). Sorry about that but I hope it was at least semi believable._

_So, so far I think I've kind of built up this headcannon. That when Rory and Lorelai still lived with Richard and Emily until Lorelai ran away (when she was 17?). During that time Richard bonded a lot with Rory. Cause Emily and Lorelai were fighting all the time (which is what I think inspired her to leave in the first place) he just really took to Rory as peace and serenity. Someone he could love without worrying about having them cut his throat out at the wrong word. And I wasn't making Lorelai out to be a bad mother, just at the end of the day-she's a teenager still. Even if she is a wonderful mother at the time we see her, I kind of think while she was living with her parents still; she would've relied slightly on them until she decided to leave with Rory and do it all on her own._

_And we all know how Emily took Lorelai running away. But the only reaction we ever really got out of Richard was on Emily's behalf. So I like to think that Richard wasn't so hurt that his almost grown (17, 18) year old headstrong, stubborn daughter took off on her own. But more that she all so suddenly took Rory away. And that in the early episodes the reason why Richard seems so distance towards Rory is because he's scared that at the wrong word between Emily and Lorelai. Lorelai just might take away access to his granddaughter again._

_Does that make sense? Lol._

_This is pre-series. If I continue I think I might do like two more pre-series before I get into the episodes._

_And if any of you are confused about the book Richard's reading to her. It's the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Part of the Chronicles of Narnia._

_R&amp;R please let me know what you think. I'm curious._


End file.
